Tag Archives: aging

Twists and turns on the path of life

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Yeah... what that says!This is the road sign of my life at the moment. Because things have gotten a little upside down recently. It’s okay; just not the way I want it to be.

Two months ago I had to get a full-time job. I don’t want a full-time job; I mean, I had one – wife, mom… I was busy in this job, and I loved it. But, Kiki was tired of school-at-home so we decided to put her in a private Christian school… so she could “experience” “real” school. My full-time job was to pay tuition and gas to get her the 30 minutes each way to school and back. I was grieving, in a way, as this meant I wouldn’t get to participate in her school the way I’d want to – no room-momming, no volunteering, no field trips… because I would be unavailable. Stuck at work.

I’ve never been a “career minded” gal. It’s not that I mind working – I mind doing stuff that I don’t give a crap about. But this was so Kiki could do school, so I put my mind to the task. Then just before school started, the lovely government decided my husband no longer deserved the unemployment he’d been getting – even though he was supposed to have 9 months left. We did two weeks of school before we realized my paycheck had to go to paying bills and there was no possible way we could keep Kiki in the school. I cried for two days – for the loss of the school, the loss of her chance to experience that, for the loss of my freedom, for the fact I would have to work full-time even though the entire reason for doing so was now lost.

One week after we pulled her out of school, we got the letter that the government had been mistaken, and we got several weeks back-pay and his weekly unemployment started back up.

What the crap???

Kiki took it all better than I did. Even in those two weeks, she realized everything I had told her was true – high school is not really something to get excited about. It was not all she had thought it would be. She is also an amazing young lady – she believes beyond a doubt that God has other plans for her – if He made it impossible for her to be at that school then obviously she needs to be somewhere else. Her faith is an inspiration to me, to be honest. I wish I had as much as she.

Of course, I am still stuck in the job. After all, I made a commitment and I don’t feel like I should just up and quit. Besides, before we were just barely scraping by, so this job is a blessing, in a way. My last paycheck (yeah, the entire thing) bought shocks and struts for my car. Most of this last paycheck bought my daughter contacts and a visit to the doctor for a much-belated check up. My next paycheck will buy new tires for my car, since the old ones are pretty much bald. All things we couldn’t have done without my job.

So I try to be thankful. Even thought it’s a stupid and really annoying job. I have remembered what it’s like to live for weekends. I miss my family, as the hours I work make me miss dinner, and my husband is off school-bus-driving before I wake up in the morning, and he goes to bed right after I get home. It’s also weird because although I like most of the people I work with, I have realized I am old enough to be most of their mothers. (No exaggeration – I am actually older than some of their moms. I don’t feel that old.)

My husband hates the fact that I have to work, mostly because he knows how much I love being a stay-at-home-mom. And he wants that for me. He also wants very much to work, but no one will hire him. I know why – his job is to grow our business, and God isn’t going to let him have a job to get in the way of that. I’m convinced of this.

That knowledge doesn’t make him feel better. He feels like a giant loser who no one wants to hire and who can’t provide for his family.

I am praying that this is just a season. Hopefully, a short season. And in the meantime, I try to remember to be thankful for the good things that I have.

And for the occasional mocha.

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The Big 5-0 and how I messed up

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50s-black-the-big-50Shoot! My husband is turning 50 in 5 days… and I totally did not realize it was nearly June. To be fair – to me – I’ve had a lot on my mind. A dear friend is going through a nasty divorce, and had 10 days to move herself and two girls out of their lovely home into a one bedroom apartment. I can’t say how I feel about the whole situation because curse words would be involved… I will get into that another day! However, because of this I have been coordinating work days at her home to schedule people to pack and get people and vehicles to do the actual moving this weekend… as well as trying to help my poor friend not to have a complete breakdown. I’ve spent more time texting the last few days than I have in all the time I’ve actually had the ability to text… it’s been crazy. Not to mention working extra hours because this week was our big semi-annual sale, and it’s Kiki’s last week of school so we’ve been doing study guides and extra credit to pull her grades up (she has some B’s and would prefer to finish with A’s) and studying for finals… Also, she is working towards a mission trip to a foreign county in July, and her 16th birthday is this summer and I’ve been working on preparations for that for months (she wants a big to-do, so to pull that off I’ve had to take care of things in small $ amounts over several months). So in the midst of all that, I kind of forgot my husband’s big day.

Until today, when my mom asked when we were doing “the birthdays”. It’s always been sort of a 1-2 punch, as my dad’s birthday is one day after my husband’s, so we usually celebrate them together, with a family get-together of some sort. Which is fine, they both like that… but this year, since it was his 50th, I wanted to do something… special. Not huge, but special. And I spaced. And I’m not sure what to do about it at this point.

On the flip side, my daughter’s birthday is going to be fabulous!! Oops.

Sheesh.

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How is it I never get on this spot any more? I’m not exactly overwhelmed with busy-ness. Just sort of… overwhelmed with life. Good stuff has happened… nothing horrible has happened… but, still. I can’t seem to crawl out from under this heavy, wet blanket of – well, not quite depression, but close. I will come back to talk more later, but now it’s time for me to head off to work. But I had a brief moment, so thought I’d drop by for a quick visit.

On becoming 50 – it’s NOT “just a number” – it’s mileage on the odometer

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Tomorrow is my birthday. I will be 50 years old.  50. Years. Old.  Half a century this life of mine has lasted so far. I cannot tell you how utterly depressed I am about this.  Now, people will say “it’s only a number” or “you are only as old as you feel” (in which case, I guess I’m about 85….) but I say, that’s a load of crap.

My car is getting on in years… that is, mileage.  It’s only about 8 years old, but in a day or so, depending on how much driving I do tomorrow,  the odometer will read 130,000 miles. That’s a lot of road wear.  My car is a good car.  She’s dependably taken me across the country and back.  She’s taken me here, there, everywhere.  I really like my car.  But guess what?  She no longer looks new.  I’ve tried to take the best care of her I could, but stuff happens. The car wasn’t new when I bought it, so it didn’t come to me ‘perfect’. There are rock chips in the windshield; scratches on the sides where my nephew scraped his bike against her; scratches on the doors where my sister’s in-laws’ dog spent the better part of a day jumping in and out of an open window when I let my sis borrow my car for a trip; a dent in the top back where I tried to back out of my garage before I had the garage door all the way up (oops) …. these are the marks of a life lived.  So, no one can say “130,000 miles, well, that’s just a number”  because, no, it’s not.  It’s a record of how far my car has gone.

That, I think, is the real problem.  How far have I gone?? Yeah, well, I’m 50 years old and I live with my parents.  50 years old and I am 100 pounds overweight.  50 years old and my horsie hopes and dreams seem to be a thing of the past. 50 years old and…. sigh.  I haven’t gotten very far at all in this life – at least that’s how it feels.  Actually, in some ways it feels as though I’ve been drug down the road for about 130,000 miles – and have the scars to prove it – but like I’ve just been going in circles. 50 might be “a number” but it’s really a milestone… and right now I’m not loving the road it’s marking.